


Otayuri Drabble Collection

by CalamityK



Series: Ask Fic Tumblr Collection [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cute, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 10:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 6,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK
Summary: A collection of small Otayuri drabbles and prompt fills.----------------Moving these from tumblr for more people to enjoy.





	1. On Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> I will add the prompts at the beginning of each chapter if prompts are used

eclair said:  **I saw your prompt list and I would like to ask if this prompt is available: ”Did you do this to yourself?” - Otayuri. Thank you in advance! <3**

\-----------------

 

"Did you do this to yourself?”

Yuri looks a bit sheepish. “Maybe.”

Otabek frowns. “Did you do it on purpose?”

Yuri’s eyes cast to the floor like he’s trying to escape the room with only a gaze. “If I say yes does it make me look better or worse?”

Otabek’s frown deepens, it doesn’t have a choice really, he’s pushing the corners of his mouth down to try and contain the laughter that wants to bubble out of his chest.

Yuri is sitting in the middle of their bedroom floor, quite literally all tangled up. One of Otabek’s scarves is securing his wrists tightly behind his back, and Otabek’s most worn— hole ridden and loose— tank top is hanging off his lithe frame, capturing one of his legs neatly against his chest as though he’d wiggled around too much and it had become stuck.

“That depends,” Otabek says lightly, trying to hold his voice steady, but the way Yuri’s eyes snap up and narrow tells him the laughter is leaking through, “on why you’ve done it.”

Yuri huffs and kicks his trapped leg out in an apparent attempt to free it, only it doesn’t work, and the movement just knocks a few choice things off their nightstand. “Can’t you just help me out of here?”

Otabek watches some lube roll across the floor. “Tell me why, Yura. I really think I want to know.”

Yuri wiggles again, doing his best to free himself. “It was meant to be sexy. I…..I’m not sure how I got stuck. I was going for the whole ‘come home to me tied up and panting’ trick, but I slipped after I got my hands tied, then my leg got stuck in your big ass shirt and I’ve failed miserably.”

He sounds so genuinely disappointed that it dampens Otabek’s amusement, but only a little. “I wouldn’t say you’ve failed.”

Yuri gives him a disbelieving look, but Otabek continues.

“I mean you are tied up and out of breathe. I’d say you’ve succeeded. Sort of. The miserably might still apply though.” Otabek lets himself smirk.

“Please just untie my hands, Beka.” Yuri pleads dryly. “I need them in order to choke you.”

And Otabek finally laughs, stepping forward and not fearing Yuri’s threat in the least.

“I could let you choke me, I guess.” He replies smoothly, tightening the scarf rather than loosening it. “But I don’t think we’ll be needing your hands at all.”

The strangled gasp Yuri makes in response seems worth it.


	2. Ocean Eyes

**Otayuri, Ocean, please ♡**

[princepessadislytherin](https://princepessadislytherin.tumblr.com/) Asked:

\-------------

Otabek stares out at the long expanse of the ocean. From the edge of the pier it looks endless on all sides, only the noises of the busy beach behind him to anchor him in reality.

He’s always thought of the ocean as a great blue nothing—a collection of azure void— but today something’s changed. Here, in this particular region, it presses the shores in a violent wash of jade green; electric in its hues, and so very familiar.

Yuri stepping up beside him draws his gaze back from the lonely sea, filling his vision with blonde hair and a smile that crinkles in the corners of two beautiful eyes that match the water.

“You ready to head back, Beka?”

“Yeah.”  
He says longingly, turning his back to an ocean he’ll only ever remember as green.


	3. Blanket

onotherflights said: **Otayuri, blanket ! (Thank you)💜**

\-----------

Yuri runs his hands over the colorful patches beneath him. He’s never seen a blanket– quilt rather– sewn together so intricately. All the various fabrics lining up neatly in ways they really shouldn’t.

“What is this made of?” He whispers, almost to himself, but he feels the bed dip as Otabek rolls toward him. 

“What?” 

“The blanket.” He clarifies, letting Otabek’s arm slip over his waist and pull him in closer where they lay upon the still-made bed. “You brought it with you, and I’ve always wondered what its made of.” He rolls over to face Otabek. “It’s just so pretty, even if it doesn’t make sense.” 

“Clothes, I think.” Otabek says, his whole face taking on an expression of fondness. “I can’t be sure for all of it. I know the bits my mother added include some of my old t-shirts, but she was only finishing what my grandmother started.” 

Yuri hums. “That makes sense I guess, with the different patterns.” He rolls back and runs a finger around his favorite patch of red swirls, tracing them individually. “I didn’t realize more than one person made it.” 

“By hand.” Otabek adds lightly. “It’s very important to my family actually, to make things by hand.” 

“Important?” It’s a question that’s not really a question, Yuri is pretty sure he understands,  _almost_  everything at least. “Then why give it to us?” 

Otabek just snorts and tugs Yuri even closer, burying his nose against his shoulder, and Yuri can feel his smile. “I guess they think we’re pretty important too.” 


	4. Stars

glimmerystarlight said: **Otayuri, stars**

\-----------

“I wonder how many are satellites.” Yuri’s voice comes out quiet against the shell of Otabek’s ear. “They’re all too bright.”

Otabek agrees, looking up at the vast expanse of the night sky from the seat of his motorbike. They’re parked along the edge of an unpaved road, thirty miles out from the city. A distance that wouldn’t make sense this time of night if they were any other people, but Yuri had wanted to see the stars; heard they looked different outside of Almaty this time of year. So Otabek brought him.

“They’re beautiful.” He says softly, no longer looking at the sky at all, but at Yuri’s profile lined up against it. He really means ‘You’re beautiful,’ but he doesn’t say it. Doesn’t want to cheapen it by somehow comparing Yuri to the entire universe. He’s not sure how Yuri would feel about that anyway, being told that Otabek holds him some place ethereal, thinks his eyes shine just as bright as the gaseous balls of light above them, and explode just as completely.

He forces all the metaphors back into his chest as Yuri finally tears his eyes away from the sky, and meets Otabek’s gaze.

“They’re amazing.” Yuri agrees, and it feels like he means something else too.


	5. Hidden

“What are you doing?” Otabek asks, blinking down at the blonde head in front of his knees.

Yuri has himself wedged entirely between two stands of lockers and is barely visible where he sits on the floor.

He tilts his head and blinks back at Otabek, scooting his feet further into the shadows as he replies.

”Hiding.”

“O……kay?” Otabek draws the word out hoping for a bit more of an explanation, but even if Yuri were going to provide one, the door slamming open somewhere behind him takes the focus.

Otabek turns sharply, only to feel Yuri’s hands wrap around his ankles and yank him backward, further obscuring anyone else’s view of his hiding spot, and almost sending Otabek in a face first sprawl.

He slings a hand out to catch himself, expecting to land it on a bench, but instead his palm meets a solid chest and his eyes dart up into the uncharacteristically scowly face of one Jean-Jacques Leroy.

“Beks,” JJ greets, one hand steadying Otabek onto his feet, “have you seen Plisetsky?”

Ah, Otabek thinks, and there’s a partial explanation.

“No.” The lie comes out smoothly, a little too quick so he adds. “I think I saw Victor dragging him out after pre-training, so I think he may be gone already.”

“Damn.” JJ scrunches his nose up and huffs. “I guess I’ll corner him at the hotel.”

Otabek blinks again, still confused, but before he can ask JJ what precisely is happening, the Canadian is already turning away and tossing “Later, Beks” over his shoulder as he abruptly exists the same way he had entered.

Otabek just stands there a moment in his wake before turning back to Yuri and sticking a hand out. “What was that about?”

Yuri takes the hand and frowns as he’s pulled to his feet and out into the light. “More of the usual.” He replies. “But thanks for lying.”

“Not the first time.” Otabek shrugs and laughs lightly, “But don’t thank me, all I did was send him to your hotel. You’ll still have to avoid whatever this is again later.”

“Ugh.” Yuri puffs, “Are you staying at the plaza?”

Otabek shakes his head. “Nah, I’m in a four star on some street called Grandem. The plaza was booked by the time I qualified.”

“Awesome.” Yuri’s whole face lights up. “Then I can just avoid it by not going back to mine at all.”

Otabek follows Yuri’s line of thought, and goes to protest that they really shouldn’t, not with the competition first thing tomorrow morning, but Yuri is grabbing Otabek’s wrist and his bag and hauling him toward the door.

He goes a lot easier than he should, relaxing even further when Yuri smiles over his shoulder. “I really hope you brought the bike.”

“I always bring the bike.”

And then Yuri’s smile turns into a grin. “Maybe I can finally drive this time? Show you around for once.”

> Otabek just nods, still caught up on the way Yuri’s eyes are crinkling with pure joy. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s go.”


	6. Club On

Anon Said:  **Otayuri club grinding pleaaasseee**

**\---------**

It’s always an accident when they meet like this—the middle of the club floor sweltering and full of undulating bodies, the music a slight beat off from the rhythm between them, and Otabek’s tongue in perfect sync with the beads of sweat rolling down Yuri’s neck—he wishes they could plan it like this.

Tonight they’d gone out with their two separate sets of friends, each celebrating a different victory, Yuri’s on the ice and Otabek’s behind the DJ booth.

Otabek lets his friends choose the first club, and fights himself not to text Yuri the name. Yuri makes not so subtle hints until his friends agree to go to the one place Yuri knows Otabek’s friends are likely to be, and when they’re not he lets Milla flip a coin.

So it’s still an accident when they’re eyes meet across the floor of the third club they both end up in; when they set their drinks down on their respective tables and the dance begins.

And it’s cosmic fate that their favorite song—or one of them at least—starts thumping a harsh drum beat above them, lyrics encouraging their hips to press closer and their mouths to hover just on the edge of each other.

Once it begins they pretend it’s still fate, the way they fit together, knowing the time of each other’s moves; the way they lose track of everything but the way gold lights flash against familiar skin and the taste of love drunk sweat.

They tell themselves it’s not on purpose, just convenient, the way they always get to abandon the tables of their drunken peers and get lost in the only way that matters.

It’s not until they end up stumbling home, still pressed together and fighting over who has the correct key to a shared door, that they admit, deep down, they don’t believe in coincidences.


	7. Agape

Anon Said:  **"Since you were born and until now he always cared about you, without asking nothing in return. He was happy just with the fact that you were born. The love of your now lost grandfather - that was your Agape. From now on... Can I take his place? Can I be... your Agape?"**

\------------------

Yuri looks at Otabek in stunned silence. It’s been three years since he thought about agape. Three entire years of mourning, growth–both of his mind and his changing body–and turmoil. His skating has suffered.

He has suffered. And Otabek… Otabek has been there the whole time. He showed up without fail to comfort Yuri, to hold his head up when he cried so hard he made himself sick, to make sure he ate, to make sure he balmed his bruises after every crushing fall, to make sure he kept going.

And then he never left.

Yuri expected that, the leaving, but it never came.

Sometime during the first year Otabek silently got his own affairs in order, switched his home rink to match Yuri’s, fired a coach he’d had for five years because she wouldn’t follow him, and hired Yakov. He rented a flat three doors down from the one Yuri’s grandfather left to Yuri, and he quietly moved in.

He accepted the spare key to Yuri’s without saying a word.

For three years Yuri has woken up to fresh breakfast, clean towels, and the television turned to his favorite channel, all because Otabek was there, filling the space, continuing rituals Yuri himself would have forgotten.

It took a while for Yuri to notice, that even though his life felt so empty, it wasn’t. Otabek made sure it couldn’t be, all without ever saying a word.

And now… he’s asking to be Yuri’s agape, as though Yuri hasn’t noticed at all.

“You–

Yuri starts, but chokes on tears. He didn’t even realize he is crying.

He feels Otabek clasp his hand and he grips it back gently. The rink around them is silent, empty, the way it should be this far after-hours, and Yuri hears his own breathing echo around them.

He’d been skating old routines, the way he does when he’s trying to find his old passion, filter through the last three years and get back to the part of himself that was golden.

He realizes now, that he must have stepped into the familiar sequence of Agape without thought, and that Otabek must have been watching; hidden somewhere in the dark stands.

He realizes now that the routine he just finished, breathing hard and feeling alive for the first time in the longest time, was Agape.

He realizes now that the spaces of the routine, the pace, the step-sequence, all of the elements that demand to be filled by passionate thought, weren’t as empty as he’d thought.

He realizes now, that the entire time he skated tonight he’d thought only about Otabek.

“Beka,” He tries again, making sure their fingers intertwine as he answers Otabek seriously. “You already are.”


	8. Cooking

They can never agree on dinner. 

Otabek always wants to cook for Yuri. He has so many plans and recipe books, and even when he’s tired after practice he stalks to their shared kitchen and pulls down the little orange covered journal from the top shelf in their cabinet. 

It’s not truly a cookbook, it contains notes, a few ancient grocery lists, and even an unfinished letter four pages from the back, but in between all of that there are recipes from his childhood. Each one carefully laid out in his mother’s crooked script. 

He’s made a vow to cook every single one for Yuri  _at least once,_ but Yuri is always getting in the way. 

Like now, when he’s pulling the saucepan from Otabek’s fingers and wrapping his arms around Otabek’s waist, nuzzling into his back groggily.

“No time for cooking. Let’s get takeaway from the noodle place two blocks over. We haven’t had it in a while.”

Otabek feels Yuri’s voice vibrate into his chest from somewhere between his shoulder blades. 

“I really want to cook today, Yura.”

 _“Please,_  Beka.” Yuri squeezes tighter. “I’ll do anything. I haven’t eaten all day and I want five-minute noodles, not one-hour beef or whatever you have planned.”

Something within Otabek curls in on itself a bit. Not in a bad way, just a bit disheartened, but when he turns to face Yuri– dislodging him and then catching him against his chest– his own stomach growls reminding him that they’re both tired and hungry.

It reminds him that sometimes cooking _does_  take too long, and that Yuri sometimes has a point. 

“Fine.” He concedes, running a hand through Yuri’s blonde hair and pulling it back so he can plant a kiss on his forehead. “But if we get takeout we’re eating it in bed.” 

“Fuck yes!” Yuri shouts, way too loud for their proximity, and the way his eyes light up almost makes up for him once again  _cook_ -blocking Otabek.

 _Almost._  


	9. Gone

Anon Said:  **Yuri presses his palms to his eyes and tries to stop the flow of tears. Otabek is gone.**

\----------

This time it’s permanent. No amount of crying on Yuri’s part, no amount of pleading, wooing, or renewing, can undo this.

Otabek took boxes of his stuff out of their shared flat, and memories of their two years together, and he’s gone.

What hurts the most isn’t that he didn’t even glance back, that he didn’t say goodbye, or I can’t love you anymore. It’s not that he came in silently while Yuri was at practice, and removed his things without even leaving a note.

No, what hurts the most is what he did leave behind.

A single silver band, coated in pearlescent film and inlaid with three small emeralds the color of Yuri’s eyes, lies in the middle of the kitchen table, shining like a homing beacon.

Otabek didn’t need to leave a note to say “Its over, we’re over, I wish we never happened.”

The ring speaks louder than he ever did, and Yuri collapses at the sight of it, hearing every unsaid word loud and clear.


	10. Riding

**Warning: NSFW drabble**

**Anon Said: **I'm in need of Yuri riding a really loud Otabek,,,, honey sky I headcannon Otabek as a huge dirty talker ;) I LOVE YOUR FICS BTW BLESS****

**\-------------**

When Yuri moves, he weaves a delicate pattern of lust, not just when he’s on the ice, spinning and looping in and out of step sequences with seraphic grace, but off the ice as well. 

And Otabek lives for it.

 Lives for the way Yuri moves in  _private_ , when there’s no one there to see. 

 Specifically, when Yuri moves how he is right now; writhing in Otabek’s lap in a way that’s all warm skin against warm skin, and small gasps full of want. 

 Yuri’s eyes are closed and his mouth is open, and Otabek can’t resist putting two fingers on his tongue just to feel him suck.

 "Fuck, Yura.“ Otabek breathes the words in time with his up-thrusts. “You’re so good like this _. So. Fucking. Good_.“ 

 He can feel the ripple of pleasure that shoots through Yuri’s body, raising visible chill-bumps on the delicate skin over his ribs, and causing him to tighten where he’s seated on Otabek’s cock; thighs quivering.  

 He releases incoherent moans around Otabek’s fingers until Otabek removes them—needing to hear Yuri’s sounds unobstructed—and he slows down, trying to let Yuri match his rhythm. 

 It’s sinful,  _it’s bliss,_ and Otabek can’t control his own tongue. 

 "Do you like it like this, Yura?” He lowers his voice and buries his lips in the hollow of Yuri’s throat. “I like  _you_  like this.”

 “More.” Yuri keens. “ _Beka_." 

 The sound of his own name passing Yuri’s parted lips consumes the last of his control. He moves his hands down Yuri’s sides, pausing to drag his fingers along the grooves of Yuri’s ribs, then bringing them to grip hard above Yuri’s pointed hip bones.

“How much more can you handle?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for Yuri’s reply before he’s slamming Yuri’s hips down, and thrusting his own up. The way Yuri mewls, and the sound of Yuri’s ass slapping his thighs, make a moan escape his own lips. “ _Fuck._  I love it when you ride me like this.”

"Then lay down.” Yuri gasps, pushing against Otabek’s chest until he’s forced to lie back.

 Yuri arches back, placing his palms on Otabek’s shins to balance as he takes control.

 Then he  _rides_ , and Otabek is forced to do nothing but watch—to  _moan_  and  _choke_  and  _grunt_ —holding still; letting Yuri take himself apart, and Otabek along with him.


	11. Didn't Have To

Anon Said:  **"You know, you didn't have to kick him in the groin" say laughing breathlessly as he look at Yuri's face**

\-----------------------

 

“I didn’t have to.” Yuri states blandly, stuffing a fry in his mouth. “I wanted to.”

“Yuri. You’re too mean.” Otabek scolds, but keeps the smirk on his face for good measure. He’s not actually upset. “You’re going to get in trouble.”

Yuri scoffs. “I never get in trouble. Besides…no body likes JJ, so no one complains when I hurt him.”

“I like him.” Otabek says, opening his own food and laying it out in front of him. “We were pretty close when I trained in Canada.”

He stuffs his own fries in his mouth and focuses on the crispy, forbidden goodness that he’s not really supposed to be having. It takes him a few moments to realize Yuri’s gone silent.

When he looks up he finds the blonde glaring at him, hand still frozen halfway to his mouth, holding his burger.

“How close.” Yuri asks suddenly, and to Otabek it sounds like more of a tense statement. “Like, how close were you.”

“Uhm.” Otabek blinks. “Not like best friends or anything. We just got along.”

He swears he sees Yuri’s eye twitch, and is beginning to regret this line of conversation.

“Do you,” Yuri hesitates, and somehow looks more murderous than usual, “still talk?”

“Uh…” Otabek swallows his food thickly, not sure where this is headed, and praying it’s not to a fight. “No we haven’t in while.”

Yuri’s expression falters, falling into something softer. “Do you want me to be nicer to him?”

“Not just him.” Otabek says, shrugging. “I mostly just don’t want you getting in trouble.”

“Why?” Yuri sits his burger down. “It won’t hurt you if I get in trouble.”

That’s true, Otabek thinks, to an extent.

It would hurt like hell not getting to see Yuri compete on the ice, especially because of something childish like beating up JJ.

“If you get banned I’ll have less reason to compete.” Otabek admits softly, staring pointedly down at his food. “I like to watch you skate.”

There’s another beat of silence, but when he looks up this time Yuri isn’t glaring. Instead his face is turned down to where his chin touches his chest, and his long hair covers his face.

Otabek can’t decipher his expression, but when he finally looks up–just barely– through his bangs, Otabek thinks he sees just the barest hint of a blush.

“I guess I’ll stay out of trouble then.” Yuri says, almost inaudibly.

Otabek can’t help but smile.


	12. Something

**Anon Said: "This isn't a joke! There's something living in my walls!" otayuri dark/horror-ish au?**

 

**Warning: Horror-ish**

**\----------------**

Otabek looks at Yuri again and let’s the amused smirk slide from his face.

They’re in Yuri’s dark living room, a little after midnight, because Yuri had called him begging him to come over.

At first he’d thought it was a ploy. Some kind of lead up to one of their usual pranks (though a bit inconvenient in the middle of the night), or Yuri just making an excuse to have Otabek stay over. Their relationship is fairly new, so either one is a fair assumption.

Except…..

Yuri looks scared.

His blonde hair is mussed like he rose out of bed quickly, and there’s an uneasiness in his green eyes that Otabek has never seen before.

Still, Otabek has to be rational.

“Do you think it could be a mouse or something?” Otabek asks, trying to bring some sense to this situation.

“N-no.” Yuri shakes his head weakly. “The noises….they’re louder than that. They sound….bigger.”

Otabek let’s Yuri’s response fall on silence, taking it into consideration and listening carefully for any sounds around them. He hears….nothing.

“Well,” he tries to think of another explanation to quell Yuri’s obvious anxiety, but nothing comes to mind, and without hearing the sounds himself he can’t give a real thought. “I guess I can stay here, and if I hear it we can investigate together okay?”

Otabek shrugs out of his jacket and lays it over the back of the couch.

Yuri still looks a bit wary but he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll sleep better at least.”

“Have you not been sleeping?” Otabek asks lightly, placing a soothing hand on Yuri’s shoulder and guiding him toward the bedroom. “I hate to suggest it but…

He trails off and Yuri looks at him tensely as he opens the bedroom door. “Just say it, Beka.”

“Let’s get settled in first.” Otabek bites his lip and follows Yuri into the room. “Okay?”

It takes a few minutes, and a small argument over who gets which side of the bed, but they finally settle down.

“Well,” Otabek begins again, pulling Yuri snug against his chest and kissing the back of his head, “all I was going to say is, if you haven’t been sleeping your fear might be stress related.”

Yuri is quiet for a moment. “You mean psychological?” His voice sounds small and pinched. “Like I’m hallucinating.”

“Not necessarily,” Otabek counters quickly, “I just know that when I don’t sleep for a few nights in a row sometimes I….think I hear or see stuff. It’s just a sleep depravation thing.”

He feels Yuri relax in his arms. “You really think that could be all it is?”

“Yeah. And when you get a bit of rest it’ll go away.” Otabek assures him.

At this point he’s feeling pretty confident that there’s nothing living in Yuri’s walls, and allows them both to drift off.

When he wakes up three hours later to a sound like distant scratching, then the distinct crack of drywall being chipped away…….

He’s no longer as certain.

 


	13. Oops I Like You

Anon Said:  **Yurio accidentally letting out that he have a crush on Beka to the press, before he have had the chance to confess to him property (and Otabek liking him back, please. No unnecessary angst, please. I don't want my boys to suffer)**

\---------------------

Yuri rushes from the press room the second he is allowed to. He needs to find Otabek.

He knows the boy is watching from one of the live rooms, and the thought sends a fresh wave of embarrassment over Yuri

 _He told a reporter he likes Otabek_ , and not even indirectly.

She’d asked him straight up if he had anyone special in his life, and he knew exactly what she meant. He had planned to evade the question like usual, but his brain and his mouth decided they weren’t getting along, and Otabek’s name had fallen from his lips before he even realized.

There had been a moment of cold silence, before Yuri had re-gathered his composure—he’s sure it visibly slipped—and demanded the next question.

He can’t recall what the rest of the interview was like, and he’s sure it doesn’t matter. He just needs to find Otabek and apologize, explain that he didn’t mean for him to find out this way— _or at all_ —then everything will be fine.

He has his face turned down, hiding the blush on his cheeks, and not really looking where he’s going when he crashes into someone in the hallway.

The force is strong enough to wind him, and he glares up, fully ready to yell at whoever it is about ‘ _watching where they’re fucking going’_ , but the words die in his throat.

In front of him stands Otabek, a hand on each of Yuri’s shoulders to steady them, and looking just as frantic and out of breath as Yuri.

“ _Yura.”_ He breathes, and Yuri thinks he almost sounds  _relieved?_

“Beka, I—

Yuri rushes to apologize, but Otabek cuts him off.

“Did you mean it?” He asks quietly. There’s a pause where he looks away from Yuri’s eyes, but doesn’t let go of his shoulders. “Do you want me to be someone  _special?_ ”

Yuri could lie. It’s his first thought. This is his chance to retract and smooth things over, set everything back to normal before it can get awkward and weird.

But then Otabek looks back at him, the expression on his face changed to something hopeful, and Yuri finds himself nodding.

“Y-yeah. I should have told you sooner.” Yuri admits, and the words feel foreign on his tongue. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like—

His apology is cut off as Otabek lunges forward and slots their mouths together.

The kiss isn’t graceful, too much noses and teeth, and Yuri responds about eight seconds too late, chasing Otabek’s mouth after he’s already pulling away.

“ _Beka?”_ He whispers the name as more of a question in his surprise.

Otabek just presses their foreheads together, forcing Yuri to look into his deep brown eyes.

 _“Me too_ , Yura. I want that too.”


	14. Get Down

Anon Ask:  **"Yura, get down of that tree right this second or so help me!"**

\------------

Otabek never yells. He makes it a principle to keep his voice at a normal octave even in the most trying of times.

So,naturally,Yuri startles, swaying precariously on the branch where he’s perched. There’s a brief second where he thinks he’s going to fall before he re-balances, and he can hear Otabek gasp, obviously noticing.

“Yura,  _please_.” Otabek pleads from the ground. There’s still a tight edge to his voice. “Please climb down.”

Yuri takes a good look at Otabek’s furrowed brow, trying to figure out why he seems so worried. “I’ll be fine, Beka. I do this all the time.”

“You’re making me nervous.” Otabek admits, his frown deepening. “I keep imagining you falling, and it makes me feel like I can’t breathe.” 

The raw and anxious honesty in his voice makes Yuri’s own chest tighten, and he scoots closer to the trunk of the tree, making sure to keep both hands firmly on the branch. “Okay, Beka. I’ll come down.”


	15. Pain In Your Ass

Anon Said:  **"I guess you can officially say I'm a pain in your ass."**

\---------------------

Yuri looks back at Otabek from his position on his hands and knees.

“Was that supposed to be a joke, Altin?” 

Otabek just raises one amused eyebrow and presses harder into the muscle right below Yuri’s ass with his thumb.

Yuri shrieks. “Ow! ow! ow! Be careful!” 

“You’re the one who pulled every muscle from your groin to your ankle. Shouldn’t I be the one telling you to be careful?” Otabek asks, rubbing his thumb in a circle to work out the tightness in Yuri’s muscle. “Lay down on your stomach so I can work this better.” 

Yuri complies. Laying himself out on the mat in front of him, but Otabek can hear him mumble in between whines.

“What was that, Yura?” He teases, “I can’t hear you when you’re face down like this.”

“I said,” Yuri raises up on his elbows and glares over his shoulder as he repeats himself, “I can imagine better ways for you to be a pain in my ass.”


	16. Fallen

Anon Said:  **"Yuri! Are you ok?" Scream Otabek, skating fast towards the fallen boy, only slightly panicking**

\-----------

It looked like Yuri’s head had hit the ice as he fell out of his last quad, and he hasn’t moved to get up.

Otabek didn’t waste a second discarding his skate guards and hitting the rink full force. He knows he’s not supposed to be out here, that he should have let Yuri’s coach go first or the paramedics, but he could not help responding immediately.

His mind is consumed by blind worry. Yuri never falls like that.  _Something’s wrong._

The ice is blurring by the time he’s kneeling at Yuri’s side, and it takes a moment to realize it’s because he’s crying.

He gets one hand on Yuri’s shoulder, but he doesn’t shake him. “Yuri. Please god.  _Yura_.  _Yuratchka_. Be okay please.  _Please move_.”

There’s a groan, and Yuri moves slowly, rolling over and blinking up at him. “Fuck, that fucking hurt.  _Still hurts._  Fuck.”

There’s a second of relieved silence as his words settle, and Otabek’s breath rushes out of him.

Then he’s gathering Yuri in his arms and peppering kisses along his temple and down his face; over his nose. It’s frantic, hysterical. He doesn’t care.

Yuri responds by resting his hands on Otabek’s jaw. “Beka, stop.”

Otabek does, pulling back and realizing what he’s doing, and where they are. He’s too aware of the tears drying on his cheeks. “I thought you’d killed yourself, Yura.”

Yuri winces, then smiles. “I’m fine, Beka, but we’re in  _public_.”

Otabek thinks about that, about the cameras he can see flashing around them, about the panicked, excited noise of the crowd, but he doesn’t take his eyes from Yuri’s as he leans back down.

“I don’t care about that.” He says. And when their lips meet and the sounds get louder, it rings true.

_Yuri’s okay, and that’s all that matters._


	17. Yes

Anon Said: **"Yes"**

\------------

Yuri has trouble getting the word out even though he wants to shout it. He can feel it expand in his chest, gather behind his eyes with euphoric tears, and crackle past his stuttering tongue. 

He can barely say it, yet the word explodes from every inch of his being.

Otabek is smiling up at him from where he kneels in the wet dirt. It breaks his face like a gleaming seam, as bright as the whitest lily, and just as rare. 

It’s Yuri’s favorite smile, and he’s never seen it so charged. 

The rain around them is starting to pick up, sluicing off Yuri’s shaking hand and Otabek’s shaking fingers, and the little band of pearl coated silver now fitting snug behind Yuri’s knuckle. They ignore it in favor of the moment.

“Yes.” He says again. A bit louder this time, and for his own benefit. He wants to say it over and over for the rest of his life.  _Yes, yes, yes._

And when Otabek pulls him down and slots their mouths together, Yuri whispers it again against his lips. 

_“Yes,_   _forever._ ”

 


	18. Virgin

Anon Said:  **"I've Never Done This Before"**

**\-----------**

Yuri shivers as Otabek’s hands come up to grip his sides. He’s feeling a mix of trepidation and excited anticipation. 

“I haven’t either, Yura.” Otabek’s voice sounds calm but there’s just a hint of breathlessness. “We’ll be okay. I’ve got you.” 

“I know.” Yuri breathes, as Otabek’s grip tightens right below his ribs and he feels himself being lifted. 

There’s a moment where he forgets to breathe, then he feels himself lowering; sliding down Otabek’s solid chest until their noses are level. 

They stay like that for a moment, breathing each other’s air, and Yuri almost forgets himself; leaning closer until their lips are a hair’s breadth from pressing together. 

Raucous applause startle him back into the real world, breaking them both apart, and Otabek grabs Yuri’s hand to keep him from falling to the ice. 

Victor is skating hastily toward them still clapping. “Amazing! Almost as much chemistry as a real pair skating couple!” 

Yuri bites his tongue to stop a sharp comment, and looks from Otabek’s steady gaze to where their fingers are twined together. 

  _Yeah_ , he thinks,  _almost._


	19. What If We Get Caught?

Anon Said:  **"We really shouldn't be doing this."**

**\-------------**

Yuri’s words echo off the shell of Otabek’s ear, but he still almost loses them in the sounds of their shared breathing. 

In response, he reattaches his mouth to Yuri’s jaw and continues sucking marks down the sweet column of his throat. 

“No, really.” Yuri pants, and Otabek feels his legs wrap tighter around his waist. “This is probably a bad idea.” 

Otabek does pull back then— _with great effort_ —and levels himself with Yuri’s jade green, lust glazed gaze, but he leaves his hands where they’re tangled up the back of Yuri’s shirt. 

 _God, his skin feels so hot_ , and Otabek wants to feel more of it.

“Why?” He manages to ask on the ghost of a worried breath. “Do you not want to?” 

“No, I  _really_  want to.” Yuri groans and grinds his hips upward to emphasize just how much. “But what if we get caught?”

“Hmm.” Otabek hums at the idea of someone finding them, and drags his fingertips over each knot of Yuri’s spine, feeling him arch with it. “Would you rather wait for tonight?”

The hallway they’re in is nestled at the back of the rink, well away from any fans or fellow skaters wandering about in the main arena, and Yuri already looks so disheveled in the dim light.

Otabek wants—no, _yearns_ — to see what he’ll look like after more than just kissing, but he can wait if Yuri wants to.

With that resolve, he makes to actually pull away.

“ _No.”_ Yuri’s voice comes out as a sharp hiss, and the hand at the nape of Otabek’s neck tightens its hold. Yuri’s eyes flash with something heated and hellish. “I don’t want to wait another second,  _Beka_.”

Otabek can feel a smirk playing across his own lips, as he presses down again and noses Yuri’s temple at the same time. “But you said this was a bad idea?”

Yuri’s breath hitches, and his whole body shudders in Otabek’s arms. “That doesn’t mean I want you to stop.”

Otabek feels Yuri’s words vibrate in the nook between his shoulder and throat, and it sends a shock of electric _need_  straight to his core. 

“ _Good._ Then I won’t _.”_


	20. Hurts

Anon Said:  **"It hurts here .. and here.. yeah here too."**

**\--------------**

Otabek feels his nostrils flare– _and not in anger_ – as Yuri points out the places he wants massaged.

All of the tender points are apparently located on or near his pert, muscled and  _extremely-well-rounded_  ass, and Otabek instantly feels like dying.

He fights his facial features into submission so they don’t give away any emotions he doesn’t want Yuri to pick up on, and convinces himself that this is normal. He’s survived giving Yuri a massage on at least three separate occasions and this won’t be any different.

Except… it’s dangerously close to an area Otabek has been dying to touch for well over a year. 

“A-are you sure that’s where you want it?” Otabek asks tentatively, wincing at his wording, and cursing his damn voice for betraying him as he swallows thickly around the question.

Yuri just looks up innocently from where he’s spread out on the ground. “I fell out of three quads and landed butt-side-down each time, so  _yeah,_ I’m pretty sure I need your capable hands on my ass like…a.s.a. _p_. _”_

He wiggles his backside for emphasis on the last letter, and squeezes his own cheeks in a way that Otabek thinks could not only rival, but  _surpass_ , Giacometti’s sensuality. 

_How can he just say something like that so nonchalantly?_

Otabek comes very close to groaning, and if Yuri were standing, Otabek is sure he’d have a hard time not tossing the blonde to the ground and ravishing him. 

“I-I…” 

Otabek trails off, unsure of how to protest further, and Yuri raises an expectant eyebrow at him while changing positions. He goes from flat on his stomach to being on his hands and knees in an instant. It puts his ass a lot closer to Otabek’s face and Otabek doesn’t possess enough strength to not see it as  _obscene_. If he weren’t already on his knees they’d collapse. 

“ _Yura_ ,” He has to force himself to breath. “I-I can’t. I really can’t touch you like that.”

“Come on,  _Beka_.” The smirk Yuri throws over his shoulder is positively hellish. “ _I know you want to_.” 

The way Yuri purrs the last part almost crumbles Otabek’s resolve. He wonders if Yuri orchestrated this somehow, by failing his quads on purpose. 

When Yuri reaches back for Otabek’s wrist and pulls his hand forward, Otabek has to ask himself if he  _cares_. 

Yuri’s leggings are so thin, and his skin is so hot, and the way he molds into Otabek’s palm is  _perfect._

 _A_ nd that’s it really, Otabek’s too far gone. _His throat’s too dry and his loose joggers suddenly feel like they’ve shrank three sizes in all the important areas._

It’s all he can do to croak out, “Not here. Your place.  _Now._ ” 

Then he scrambles to his feet, grabbing Yuri by the arm and all but hauling him from the rink before he can answer with more than a leer. 

Otabek’s sure he’ll remember his reasons for never doing this later, but he sincerely doubts the cons will still outweigh the pros. 


	21. Never

Anon Said:  **"We will never be together"**

**\-------------**

Yuri let’s the words settle before he realizes how they sound and panics. “Oh no! No! I mean like in the pair up for practice poses. They’re going to separate us every time because we skate together anyway.”

He flails his hands with his panic as he skates a few inches closer to Otabek on instinct.

Otabek’s mouth twitches like he’s carefully containing his amusement, but it’s threatening to break his typical stoic expression.

“I knew what you meant, Yura.”

Yuri takes a deep breathe. He knows he just overreacted to something minor and that their rink mates heard, and are staring, but he can’t even be embarrassed.

He just got Otabek all to himself, it’s all so new and fresh, and honestly, he’d rather embarrass himself nine thousand times a day than let anything slip of the tongue mess it up.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to keep up with my content I can now be found on Twitter @Kingotabek


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